


The Things We Do

by Scornful_truth



Category: Danganronpa
Genre: Kokichi is the best BF, M/M, Sad Birthday, Shuichi needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 06:48:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20560001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scornful_truth/pseuds/Scornful_truth
Summary: The bottom of Shuichi's wits finally meets the frayed tail end. Cracking and popping under the pressure he can hardly take, he has one purpose- one reason to his madness.It so being the person he cherishes too deeply, all but to keep them safe.





	The Things We Do

The things he does.

The things he feels.

The things he goes through.

Would all be worth nothing, if he never had _him_ as his reason.

The smell of freshly printed paper violated the air, as he pulled off another sheet of well put together words. Filled from top to bottom in paragraphs describing a murder and why the suspect was the one red handed. Yet he wasn’t done. He slid the paper onto his desk, he still had to check for mistakes.

Begrudgingly he sat down in front of _it_. Shuichi sighed, rubbing his tired eyes and pushing through this.

He had gotten a call during the early morning about a case on his supposed day off. His hazel gold eyes skim the words he fought to place hours before. The case wasn’t a normal murderer has grudge for a family and finally goes rouge. No, The family were attacked out of sheer luck— Or rather, bad luck.

He turned his eyes away from the long summary. After all these hours, the emotions of such a particularly _hard_ case was finally making its check in. Reminding him that the world was sitting on his shaking shoulders. Ever so relentlessly whispering to him how useless this all was.

The dim lights in his office canceled any positive energy from entering. He chewed at the insides of his cheeks, numbing feelings were crawling up to meet his heart and he wasn’t ready. Not now.

He slid the paper off to the side, out of his sights. Another thought— another one of _those_ feelings melted into his mind and wash through his chest with a burning sensation of suffocation. His hands felt too clammy, the dark circles under his eyes had the skin feeling like it ran too thin. His hair a mess from the sheer lack of care.

This case was too hard. Meaning to swallow, to hardly _think about_. Throwing himself in such a heart wrenching situation had made him hold his breath, counting to ten, one too many times.

Two children were murdered in their homes after being tied and bound for 24 hours. The thought that someone could have just ran in and saved them from more potential horror ached. He felt his lip quiver, his hands running to cover his eyes. Elbows propped up on his solid wooden desk in an attempt to ground himself.

_It was the damn babysitter_. His fist clenched at the betrayal. The fact that the mother and father lent that person their trust. To care for their children, that they loved and would kill for. A mother and father who worked tirelessly to support them, to wish them the best life. Had just handed them over to a person who would soon slaughter them.

Imagining the guilt, the heart stopping pain that came with overwhelming agony of death. The screams that would soon soak the air in putrid anguish that would bend people to their knees, begging anyone, anyone to redo what had already been done.

Shuichi bit hard down into his bottom lip as the surges of anger sped through his mind. His eyebrows meeting together in furrowed frustration as the first tear starts up an onslaught of bottled up rage and sorrow that had his heart throbbing with hopelessness.

He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing so hard that he wouldn’t picture it happening. Resentfully shaking in the mental image of those parents coming home after a long day, only to be met with a bloody mass of dejected bodies scrawled onto the floor. The nonexistent screams wracked his hurting mind.

Shuichi saw it, the play by play. The mother holding their lifeless form. The father standing there, feeling the epitome of a failure to protect his family. His last and forced movements to call 911.

He, as a detective, was always just too_ late_. He can’t save the lives that have already been lost, and he can’t undo anything. Shuichi has always had a sensitive heart. One that could grab a vivid taste of one’s emotional torment.

His head dropped to the desk as his arms provided a safe place to shield his face from the world. He’s supposed to be strong, he’s supposed to be numb to this grief already. Like so many others who worked here. Stone cold faces and a resilient want to slam the people who kill behind bars.

But he— He doesn’t hate the people who do it. Who commit such vile crimes against innocent lives. Those people, are still _people_. Messed up and cruel ones, but no one gets to that point without an unstable brutal childhood. No one sees the world from their view. Giving them all the more reason to hate humanity, to hate people, and handing them such a good purpose to kill.

It’s wrong, it’s so wrong. Shuichi can’t take the inhumane tactics of the society as a whole as it time, and time again throws itself into his mind for him to make it all better. To toss away the criminal, to make people _safer._

Leading to one of the many, many possible results of his emotional break down.

It’s late at night, eleven at most, and he might be the only one here along with a few stray workers. He’s the only one left on the middle floor of the office so he lets go of the shame. The shame of being walked in on during a very vulnerable stage of pain.

He wasn’t even allowing the sobs to crack and writh up his throat. In an ugly cry of all the ache he gets ruthlessly shoved into his face. This was a dam that broke. Desperating running free in a burst of damage. Tears ran down his cheeks as he choked on every words he never said to the killer as he sent them to prison. Suffocating on the things he never mentioned to the family.

Being crushed under the weight of still _feeling_ the cold blooded terror sending tremors of unfavored horror through every fiber. Every single vessel of his soul being shook with the fierce excruciating bullets that bled the blood of too many lives.

He sacrificed his life to this work and all he gets in return is the sleepless nights, the countless nightmares that have him in the perspective of the killer. Blood thirty monsters that rip through the flesh of children so carelessly.

_Yet these are the things he goes through._

_The things he deals with._

_To make his family **safe**._

Every hiccuped and swallowed scream was another one of those nights. Each smothered breath was another helpless useless piece of empathy he held for every human heart. Since the child inside him was crying for someone to pick him off his scraped knees and dirtied feet. Brush him clean. Selfishly he’s yearning for someone to coddle him, just this once into believing that everything was _okay_.

Who was he kidding anyway. He was being childish, he had to go home, he had responsibilities to return back to. Crying does— and did nothing.

He sat up, uncovering his red tear soaked eyes. Wiped his wet hands on his pants. At this point he doesn’t care if he looks like the definition of awful. He wanted to go home, and in his way laid a stupid summary. He glared at the paper he wrote with exas tears trailing down his cheeks.

He’d just turn it in with mistakes.

He unlocked the door to his house and entered as quietly as he could manage. He slipped off his coat and hung it, setting his bag of papers he learned overtime to despise, against the wall. His thoughts were still so very much drowning in a mass of doubt and heartache.

Driving home could have been considered driving drunk, except it was his emotional state that packed up and left for the day and not his mental ability to think straight. He looked up from slipping his shoes off and the days pain seemed to be put on pause.

Confusion flooded where hurt was. At the same time, it was a warm sense of familiarity.

Candles lined the floor. Not in a sporadic strange order. They created a small path that stretched into the back of the house, down the hallway. At first he thought it went to their bedroom but it passed that point. Curiously, stepping away from his depressing train of thought. He allowed the candles to guide him to the back of the house.

All the way to the back door where a little note was taped to the handle.

_“Miss you, Miss you, Now I gotta kiss you!”_

He rubbed his sore eyes again. Still lined with redness and slightly puffy from the tears. He wondered how attractive he’d look for something so out of the blue like this. He reached forward and cracked open the door. Only to be met with more candles circling around a blanket rolled out onto the porch.

Shuichi couldn’t help the choked laugh he gave when he saw Kokichi laying on the blanket. Wearing a hat that really was just a big cupcake. Not even the porch light was on, the mood being set with candles and him just propping his head up by resting his chin in his hands, swinging his feet back and forth.

“K-Kokichi this is…” He walked over to him, Not knowing whether to laugh or stare in mild confusion.

“Cheesy right?” He giggled. Stretching out one hand and wiggling a finger, gesturing for Shuichi to come join him. His cupcake hat slipped down in front of his eyes and he gave it a shove to stay on top of his head.

It was a red velvet cupcake with vanilla frosting, and set next to him was a tray of neatly stacked cupcakes. Though, one seemed to be missing. Shuichi sat down next to the flirtatious boy only to see white frosting on the corner of his lips.

Kokichi sat up and stole his hands to pull him in abruptly to place his cupcaked lips to kiss his. “Happy birthday Shumai!” He smiled, but his purple eyes caught sight of him. His red eyes, the dark circles under them. “Looks like you need a cupcake hat!” He quipped. Happily taking his cupcake off his head and placing it on Shuichi’s. It fit like a glove.

“...I forgot it was today.” He whispered, smiling as he swallowed another feat of overwhelming gratitude to him. Today was just an emotional day, and he was almost embarrassed to admit he had a bad birthday. Since all that was bad was his… overreacting.

“I thought so,” Kokichi grinned. “Did it make you happy? I see a tinsy weensy smile… work must of been a drag huh?”

Shuichi nodded. Eyeing one of the biggest cupcakes on the platter, suddenly welcoming the crave for numbed sugar. Kokichi followed his eyes and plucked the cupcake off. “Tell you what! You are gonna forget all about it, all the nasty bad thoughts, and focus on me. Just for your birthday party!” He handed Shuichi his favorite cupcake. “Okay?”

Shuichi smiled lightly. It was a start, and if he started crying at any point from here on out, it was because he was so grateful he had Kokichi here to pull him from the bottom of the ocean. Letting him breath again.

“...Ha, Okay.”

At that, Kokichi guided Shuichi’s hand to push the cupcake closer to his lips. “That starts out with eating my slave work! After that I gotcha a present! Maki and Kaito and, well, basically every non-as-awesome-as-me got you a little somethin’, something.” He pulled out a little box. “Now go ahead! Tell me how amazing my cupcake skills are!”

Shuichi chuckled and bit into the cupcake. The frosting was practically whipped cream with more consistency. He could hardly taste overwhelming sugar of the cake part and—There was dark chocolate filling on the inside?

“This is so good..” he muttered after another bite. Kokichi joked around more until the cupcake was out of sight. He pushed the glitter wrapped box into his hands.

Those purple wide eyes begged him to crack it open. Look at what he got. Be pleased. Be happy. _Because those sad eyes make me sad._

Shuichi looked at the small box. It wasn’t big, or as extravagant as he might imagine. He pulled off the small top and looked inside.

It was a two part necklace. A beautiful silver that had half of a heart connected to it. Another identical one laid next to it. He picked them up, to see them closer. Together they created a message.

_You are the key to my heart._

“You choose what side you want!” Kokichi said happily. Shuichi could hardly contain the warm joy in his chest as he picked up the one that said ‘you are the’ and pulled Kokichi closer to set the necklace around his neck.

While he kept the ‘key to my heart’.

Once on, he drew him in closer to his chest. Sinking into the feeling of his arms around him, safe, protected, right where he should stay. Right where he worked so hard for him to be. All those painful hours, those tear soaked summaries, the anxiety he fights day by day. All boiling down to this. Kokichi had every right to know why he tortured himself.

“...I love you.” He dared to whisper in his ear. His warmth, his breath, he wants to feel it forever. Not dead. Not gone.

“...Tough day?” Kokichi asked as he shifted to wrap his arms and legs around him. A tighter embrace, a safer embrace.

Shuichi squeezed him closer. That was his answer. _Yes, yes and all I ever wished for, all I still ever wish for, is for you to be here. To be happy_.

He kissed his cheek, but Kokichi pushed further and kissed his lips. His hands came up to cup his cheeks, to melt and relax his tense muscles as he coax every pain back out into the open. Tears came back, but this time they were showered in kisses. Kindly, sweetly placed. Crafted to comfort him when he felt the most useless, and the most unloved.

His lips tasted like vanilla frosting, yet still savory grape. “...You’re still,” he kissed his forehead, not letting him loose. “...the best gift.” This got an ‘awwe’ out of the other boy, even if his cheeks were dyed a rosy red.

“...So the very expensive gift doesn’t matter?” He sighed as he kissed his chin, teasing his lips. “The things I do to make you happy.”

Amen to that.

Kokichi took the other side of the necklace and slid it around Shuichi’s neck, finally connecting them. Completing the sentence. “Oh Shumai…” He quietly whispered. Still looking up to see Shuichi’s drying tears, those hurting eyes, and that smile that said he truly believed that things would turn out okay again.

“...No matter what happens at work, come home and steal me. Just for a moment. I wouldn’t mind in the slightest…” The words were followed by a nerve riddled giggle, running from another kiss that captured his lip. Fingers running through Shuichi’s hair, hands tightly secured around Kokichi’s waist.

Shuichi broke apart to close his eyes and soak in the true reality. “...I know.” He whispered into his ear, kissing his cheek, holding his own gentle lips against cool skin.

“...and I’ll work to keep you safe, till the day I die.”

**Author's Note:**

> It's 11:57pm. still technically posted on his b day HEC YA


End file.
